


What Is There About Your Face That Causes So Much Trouble?

by rusty_armour



Category: The Persuaders
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Obscure and British Commentfest, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusty_armour/pseuds/rusty_armour
Summary: Brett struggles to cope after being brainwashed and embroiled in an assassination plot.





	What Is There About Your Face That Causes So Much Trouble?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my own prompt at [Obscure & British Commentfest 2018](https://lost-spook.dreamwidth.org/812931.html): 
> 
> The Persuaders, Brett Sinclair/Danny Wilde, hurt/comfort. It would be great to have a fic set after "Someone Like Me," but I'd be happy with anything. :-)
> 
> This is set right after "Someone Like Me," but I went with friendship instead of slash -- friendship that almost borders on slash. Much like the actual show, really.

* * *

 

Brett was drinking too much. Cynthia had raised an eyebrow when Brett had ordered another bottle of champagne and had exchanged a look with Annabelle. Danny quickly called the waiter back and cancelled the order, smiling innocently when he was met with the cold Sinclair glower.  
  
“Brett, we’d better make tracks if we’re going to make it to that meeting with Judge Fulton,” Danny said.  
  
Brett stared at Danny blankly for a few seconds and then smiled, looking slightly abashed. “How careless of me to forget. I must have lost track of the time. Ladies, I hope you’ll forgive us for cutting short such a delightful evening.”  
  
Cynthia patted the back of Brett’s hand. “Of course, darling. We understand completely.”  
  
Brett took Cynthia’s hand and kissed it. “We’ll have dinner soon.” He cast a glance at Danny. “Alone.” He rose from his chair. “We’ll give you both a lift before our-”  
  
“Sorry, kid, there isn’t time,” Danny said. “I’ll just lend Annabelle my car. I can get it back from her tomorrow.”  
  
Annabelle leaned over and kissed Danny on the cheek, pausing long enough to whisper in his ear. “I hope Brett feels better soon.”  
  
“Yeah, me too. Thanks, sweetheart.” Danny gave both Annabelle and Cynthia a cheery wave and followed Brett out of the restaurant. Brett stood with his arms crossed, leaning against his Aston Martin.  
  
“I suppose you’d prefer to drive,” Brett said.  
  
Danny kept his expression neutral. “Not necessarily.”  
  
“Ah. You just don’t want me to go off on my own – or with Cynthia, apparently.” Brett sighed deeply. “What the hell is going on, Danny? Why didn’t you just tell me I was drinking too much instead of concocting that ridiculous story?”  
  
“I was just trying to preserve your lordly dignity, your lordship,” Danny said.  
  
Brett rolled his eyes. “When has that ever concerned you?”  
  
“It concerns me plenty, Brett.” Danny leaned back against the Aston Martin as well, intentionally brushing against the sleeve of Brett’s jacket as he did so. “What happened, kid? The date was going swell. You were scintillating and charming, oozing lordliness all over the place. You had Cynthia eating out of the palm of your hand...” Danny trailed off when he saw Brett frown. “Is that it? Were things going _too_ well?”  
  
Brett swept a hand across his face. “As you may recall, I haven’t been myself lately.”  
  
Danny snorted. “Yeah, brainwashing will do that to a fellow.”  
  
Brett grimaced. “I don’t want to be alone with Cynthia – or anyone – until I’m sure that-”  
  
“You’re okay now,” Danny said.  
  
Brett raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”  
  
“Yes, Brett, you _are_.” Danny squeezed Brett’s shoulder. “You’re just tired, that’s all. What you need more than anything is a good night’s sleep.”  
  
“I’m not sure if that’s possible,” Brett said. “Whenever I go to sleep, I see flashes of the hospital room, flashes of Fowler and Sam...”  
  
“Sounds like nightmares to me. They’ll fade in time.”  
  
“And until then?”  
  
“Look, let’s continue this conversation back at your place. I’ll heat up some warm milk and-”  
  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Brett said. “I’ve already tried to kill you twice.”  
  
“Technically, it was just the once. You only knocked me out the second time.”  
  
“ _Daniel_ -”  
  
“You say you don’t want to be alone with anyone, but I bet you’re more afraid of being alone with yourself.”  
  
Brett’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “Alone with myself?”  
  
Danny gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You know what I mean. Properly alone. _Alone_ alone.”  
  
Brett smiled wearily. “All right, Daniel. I think I catch your drift.”  
  
“So we’re heading to your place?” Danny asked.  
  
“If it will finally bring this discussion to an end, yes.”  
  
  


! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! 

 

“I’m sorry, Daniel, but you’re really not my type,” Brett said as Danny dragged him into the bedroom. “We’re from two very different backgrounds. It simply wouldn’t work.”

“Ah, are you worried that I’m too good for you because I grew up in the Bronx? That’s really sweet.” Danny gave Brett a shove, and Brett landed on his bed. “For the love of God, get some sleep. It’s nearly 2 a.m.”

Danny thought he’d been making progress when he convinced Brett to change into his pyjamas and drink the warm milk, but then Brett had settled on the sofa and had spoken about almost every topic under the sun. Out of sheer desperation, Danny had seized Brett by the arm and had hauled him off the sofa. Now, he was pulling back the bed covers, and Brett was watching him with an alarmed expression.

“You aren’t planning to tuck me in, are you?” Brett asked.

“I might.”

Brett sighed and, rising from the mattress, walked around Danny to climb into bed. Somehow, he didn’t seem entirely surprised when Danny sat down on the other side of the bed. “At least remove your shoes, you hopeless pleb.”

“Yes, of course, your lordship. I was just about to do that.”

Brett cast his eyes to the ceiling when he felt the mattress shift. “You know, there’s a perfectly good sofa in the sitting room.”

“Oh, no, your lordship,” Danny said. “I’m staying right here where I can keep an eye on you.”

Brett glared at him. “I’m not a child, Daniel.”

Danny raised himself up on one elbow and faced Brett’s ire. “No, you’re a guy who’s had a really rough time lately and desperately needs to get some sleep.”

Brett growled something unintelligible and turned over on his side, his back to Danny.

“It’s hardly the first time we’ve shared a bed,” Danny said. “Remember the time when we stayed in that pensione in San Gimignano?”

“I think ‘pensione’ is a rather generous description of that hovel. And we wouldn’t have needed to stay there in the first place if you had turned right when I told you to.”

“Or if you had let me take the route I wanted to take in the first place.” Danny gently prodded Brett’s back, observing that Brett flinched but didn’t try to move away. “Do you want me to go?”

“No,” Brett said.

Danny smiled. “What can I do?”

“Keep talking.”

“About?”

“Anything. You’re such a dull conversationalist that anything you say is bound to put me to sleep.”

Danny reached over and ruffled Brett’s hair. “Thatta boy. You’re sounding more like yourself already.”

“Daniel, if you ever do that again, I’ll sick the dog on you.”

Danny studied Brett’s silk-clad back in bewilderment. “You don’t have a dog.”

“I’ll get one,” Brett said.

Danny gave Brett’s back a mock look of horror and then launched into a story about the first big deal he ever made. He knew Brett had heard it before, but he thought Brett might find that familiarity comforting. Brett also had little interest in business, especially Danny’s business, and claimed that any talk on the subject was guaranteed to put him to sleep. Sure enough, Danny was only about five minutes into his anecdote when he heard soft snores coming from the other side of the bed. Danny curled up under the covers and decided to get some sleep himself.


End file.
